


New Beginnings (edit)

by prettyface_lonelyheart



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Polyandry, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyface_lonelyheart/pseuds/prettyface_lonelyheart
Summary: Two women, ten men and one hundred Nazi scalps.





	1. The Basterds: Origin

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of the Basterds' hunt for Nazis with the addition of a female sharpshooter and field nurse.

"Ashley," General Lewis approached a one of the medics, who had tan skin and long, dark hair pulled back halfway.

In response, she stood at attention. "Sir."

Once the General nodded in acknowledgement, he waved his hand, motioning for her to follow him.

He must have noticed her holding her breath as they walked, because he glanced at her and said, "Nothing to be worried about. In fact, I think this just might pique your interest."

This was comforting, but the uncertainty of the situation was still daunting.

She was lead into his office, the middle of which she stood while the door was being closed behind her as well as the General.

A man was leaning against the window ledge behind the desk. He got on his feet, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

She swore she caught a glimpse of a smirk upon meeting her eyes.

"T/4 Aria Ashley, this is Lieutenant Aldo Raine," Lewis spoke after what felt like a delayed break in the silence that surrounded them.

By this time, the Lieutenant made his way around to the front of the desk and put his hand out towards her.

She took it in a handshake and gave him a small smile.

"Pleased to meet you," he spoke in a drawl.

Aria didn't know what to say, as she didn't even know the purpose of the meeting. So she settled with a nod and, thankfully, General Lewis took the floor again.

"Now the reason I brought you in today is because Lieutenant Raine is assembling a special unit, much like the one you have been training with. The exception here, is that, unlike dealing with one hundred or so men, there will be around ten to fifteen, at most," he explained.

This  _was_  beginning to sound like something that seemed worth looking into.

The General continued. "After sifting through several files for potential recruits, you have been selected to join this unit."

Did God himself send this order? It was just what she needed. It was an escape. It was somewhere to start fresh.

She often felt alienated, possibly due to her awkward and soft-spoken nature. The other nurses were friendly to her, yet she felt something separated them, like she wasn't good enough. Needless to say, when she'd found out she had made it to the top of her class, she felt like she had  _something_  going for her. It wasn't number one, but it was something, right?

The size appealed to her as well. She craved intimacy, and working with a smaller group sounded like a perfect opportunity to get to know others better.

While she had only known Lieutenant Raine for five minutes at most, she had a good feeling about him. Just by the way he stood in front of her—tall with his hands on his hips—he came off as someone who was sure of himself, someone who was efficient in his role as a leader. There might be some arrogance in there, but how would she know if she didn't join?

"Yes, sir," Aria said, a wave of confidence coursing through her veins now. "When do I start?"

From her peripheral vision, she saw the Lieutenant smile wider.

* * *

There was a knock at General Lewis's door, bringing his attention to the visitor.

"Enter," he called to the person on the other side of the wood and glass.

A lean man with black, neatly trimmed hair stepped into the office and saluted the General, who had risen and done the same.

"Sir," the man spoke in a deep voice. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Lewis motioned to another man sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Corporal Wilhelm Wicki, this is Lieutenant Aldo Raine."

Aldo stood up and shook hands with Wicki, who greeted him with a slight nod.

"Lieutenant Raine is putting together a unit under the 1st Special Service Force. You will be heading to Europe and seeing that you are fluent in German, he has chosen you as a translator," said the General.

Immediately fascinated, Wicki's brows flew up his forehead. He turned back to Lieutenant Raine and nodded.

"Very well, sir," he states. "While I'm in no position to do so, may I recommend another soldier?"

"Sure. Who'd you have in mind?" Lieutenant Raine asked.

"Private Chase Warren," Wicki replied, without skipping a beat.

The highest ranking man in the room let out a gust of air in the form of a dry laugh and shook his head in disbelief. "Now, Corporal—"

Wicki saw the confusion in Raine's eyes and mentally hoped to himself that what he was thinking would happen won't. He just met the Lieutenant and didn't know how he'd react when that confusion clears. 

While he had the chance, he jumped in.

"Sir, with all due respect," Wicki put a fist over his mouth and cleared his throat. "She is a gifted sharpshooter—"

"Wait, ' _she_ '?" a set of lines formed on the Lieutenant's forehead when his brows came together. 

_Well, this was it_ , Wicki thought to himself.

But he could still try one last time to convince him.

"Yes, s-she is a gifted sharpshooter..." Wicki repeated while his mind searched for more to say. "She is also fluent in four languages: German, Italian, French, and Spanish. Should something happen to me, you won't be without a translator."

There was some silence between all three. General Lewis looked between the two to determine Lieutenant Raine's response.

The latter pursed his lips, looking deep in thought, and turned to the General. "I'd like to see Private Warren's file."

Wicki smiled proudly, more for his friend than himself. 


	2. Just Another Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I set the whole story as having "graphic depictions of violence", the brief moment in this chapter will be one of very few of those cases, as I want to focus more on the interactions between the characters.

From a hilltop, overlooking a gravel road, Chase lay low, keeping an eye for any incoming German troops.

The Basterds were on lower ground, obscured by the trees and piles of leaves, while Chase kept her eyes trained through the scope.

She saw a Kübelwagen come into view. Once it reached the middle of the road, she shot at the engine block.

The Basterds emerged from their concealed positions, guns drawn. The targets hadn’t fully processed what was happening right before they were massacred.

Not long after, a Krupp Protze truck rolled in.

Sakowitz stumbled back.

“Shit!” Aria hissed and sprung into action.

From the newer squad, there was only one German left alive. He stopped firing when he saw the red cross on her armband.

"Alright, let's see what we have here," she kneeled beside him and looked at the hole in his pant leg.

The bullet was lodged between the fabric of his pants and the leather exterior of his boot.

Sakowitz winced when she unknowingly squeezed his leg, just above the wound.

"Sorry," she said quickly and let go.

Aria wasted no time in digging out her tweezers and pulling out the bullet. She lost focus on everything else. No treading soles of boots over the crunchy leaves or the tickling sensation of sweat dripping down the side of her head.

* * *

 "Looks like this is our place for the night," Aldo stated after taking a whiff of his tobacco-coated fingers.

Before the group was a small, two-story house. It looked vacant enough.

"We could just keep walking..." Omar suggested and added a hesitant "maybe" when he saw Kagan and Utivich giving him a questioning look.

It was around the early hours of the evening and they needed a place to sleep. Chances of finding another building before the sun finally sets ran from slim to none. Plus, after taking down three enemy squads earlier that day, everyone preferred to settle in somewhere after clearing a room in one go. While securing a spot in the dark is doable, it came with the added risk of missing an enemy lurking about.

"Fuck that," Chase scoffed. "We may never find another place and just end up sleeping outside."

"And that's why I'm gonna need y'all to clear that building," Aldo interrupted before the matter could be further debated. "Donny, take Chase with you. Wicki go with Omar. Aria go with Utivich. Sakowitz go with Kagan. And Hirschberg take Zimmerman."

They split into their assigned pairs and spread out of both sides of the house, under the windows. Wicki, being first in line coming from the right, kicked the door open. Omar pointed his gun towards the interior. When all was clear, he nodded his head to the side. The other line of Basterds, led by Donny and Chase, went in, with the first pair making their way to the room all the way to the front of the house. Behind them, Utivich went into the adjacent room with Aria following behind, nervously clutching the Lüger she'd nabbed. The rest filed in accordingly. 

Everyone jumped when shots were fired from the first room.

While two Germans used some overturned furniture for cover, Chase leaned towards the edge of a parallel wall, stuck the barrel of her rifle out and shot at one of them who'd peaked his head out. For a minute or two, neither side shot at the other.

Donny caught sight of the surviving soldier attempting to sneak up on them. The natural light from outside cast a shadow through the window, revealing his new location. He was pressed up against the opposite side of the wall. As he neared, he realized the flaw in this and tried minimizing his presence by crouching so his shape was out of view.

As the German rounded the corner, Donny pointed his gun and pulled the trigger, only to hear an impotent click.

"Fuck!" murmured.

The other man hesitated long enough. Donny thrusted the scope's end forward, knocking the soldier to the floor.

Once the German’s back hit the gravelly floor, Donny tossed his weapon aside and picked up a table leg lying by the piles of furniture.

Chase heard a loud crack and peered around the corner. Her jaw dropped as she watched Donny bring the thick object down repeatedly over the man's head, beating it mercilessly. Blood was splattered everywhere.

Donny stood up straight again and was breathing heavily as he surveyed the caved in skull of the man before him. He dropped the table leg by his side, letting it fall with a thud, and turned around. For a second, he exhibited fear when he met eyes with Chase, who stood motionless.

He stood there in his blood-covered clothes, some dotting his face. His eyes were wide, bushy eyebrows up, and lips parted in an attempt to say something.

A smile formed across her face. "Whoa."

"You like that, huh?" Donny let out a breathy laugh and smirked.

Omar popped his head in the room. "Hey, is the room clear or what?"

He looked between the two and saw the dead body a few feet away.

He looked from the body to Donny. 

"What the hell happened to you?" Omar questioned.

"All clear," Donny simply stated, giving him a nod.


	3. A Gift From Home

"Is it weird I found it kinda... I don't know... arousing?"

"Um, yes," Aria replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"It was a Nazi, though," Chase turned her head to the side to face the nurse.

"I know, but it's weird!" Aria shuddered.

Chase laughed and blew at a loose strand of light brown hair hanging over her eye.

"You and Donny seem to be hitting it off, not to mention you have Wicki by your side..." Aria half-smiled. 

"We're not officially together, I don't think," Chase shrugged. "I think he likes me though. Which would be some sort of blessing, because I like him."

Aria groaned and looked up at the sky from where she lay under the window. She saw nothing but a navy blue blanket and some specks of white here and there. When she was younger, she heard somewhere that stars can signal new beginnings. Over the years, she thought that maybe she had mixed up the idea of the "light at the end of the tunnel" and made a new saying. Wherever she heard it from, she didn't know if it was true.

"You're so lucky, then. Not only are you friends with at least one of the guys already, but another one likes you. Even in a group consisting of nine men, I can't get one's attention," she shook her head at the ceiling before looking over at Chase from the corner of her eye. "And you say you're unlikeable."

"One of them likes you. Trust me on that," Chase said as Aria closed her eyes.

"That's such bullshit." 

"I'm serious! I'll even tell you who."

"No you won't. You know why? Cus it's neither of them!"

The two fell silent, causing the nurse to open her right eye to look at Chase, who was now lying on her side. Her head tilted onto her hand, which was held up by her elbow on her pillow. A sly grin was plastered across her face.

She leaned in towards Aria and whispered. "It's the Lieutenant." 

"You're ridiculous," the medic, with her eye now closed, mumbled.

"No, I'm right," Chase lay on her back again. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He even said some good things about you." 

"And what good things are there to say about a medic who scored within the top of her class that _isn’t_ the first? She can tell the difference between a knife and a scalpel?"

"No. Like she's caring and she looks out for the men."

"Oh yeah? And when did he say that?"

"When we set up camp one time and he heard you asking Sakowitz how his leg was and you were changing the dressing because it got wet from when it rained earlier that day."

"Then Lieutenant Raine must have some really low standards if he's interested in someone who is, not only ugly, but simply does her job,” Aria rolled her eyes. “Not exactly someone an officer should risk his job for.”

"Well whether or not it's him. I guarantee at least one of the Basterds likes you."

This time, Aria turned her head to look at Chase.

"Private Chase Warren: sharpshooter, translator, pathological liar."

Chase shoved Aria's side, making the latter break out in a fit of laughter. 

* * *

 "Look what I got," Donny approached Chase with a long cardboard box, a huge smile on his face. 

The corner of one side was covered in stamps from Boston, Massachusetts. 

"A gift from home?" she smiled and eyed the size of the parcel, wondering what could possibly be in it.

"I made a... special request to my folks," he nodded and took a knife under the flaps.

He opened the box and pulled out a baseball bat with one hand, the other on the handle when it was completely out of its cardboard confines. 

It was a big and heavy wooden bat with some writing on it. Upon closer inspection, Chase could see that they were names. Some of them were just first names, like Madeleine and Norman. Others included last names too, such as Marty Horowitz and Lucille Mehlberg.

"I told my brother to get me the heaviest bat he could find and ask our Jewish neighbors and friends to write the name of any loved ones in Europe who are in danger," Donny explains, watching Chase read all the names on the bat's surface. 

There was some silence between the two.

Chase wasn’t just reading the names. She was creating an image of each person. Her grandmother was a graphologist. Growing up, her grandmother said a person’s handwriting could reveal a lot about them.

In her mind, Marty was a businessman of sorts, possibly someone in a high position. Frances is a little girl, doodling make-believe animals on the walls of her bedroom. Stan is a teenager who follows the rules and holds great respect for his elders.

Though they were only her guesses, there was one thing she did know. Behind each name is a person with his or her own story, no matter how old. Getrude’s friends affectionately dub her “Gertie Birdy”, because of her love for bird watching. Edith didn’t like broccoli and would sneakily pass it to her brother, Mort, the greatest big brother who would do anything for her.

And somehow, people like them were abominations in the eyes of Hitler...

She looked up at Donny. “This... This is amazing.”

He gasped and put the bat back in the box, tipping it gently so that it dropped in a horizontal position. When he stood up straight again, he held her hands in his.

“D-Did I do something wrong, doll?” he asked.

Lines formed on her forehead, displaying a sign of confusion.

It didn’t even occur to her that her voice was shaky.

Now fearing she’d upset him, she shook her head, “No, Donny. You didn’t. It’s just that... What you’re doing. Fighting for your people... It’s what I really love about you.”

 “Y-You love me?” his cheeks flushed, but not enough that it showed.

Chase giggled, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I think so? I wouldn’t know since I’ve never really been in love. But... I know I like you.” 

He stood motionless. The first sign of movement came from his face when the ends of his lips tugged upward in a smitten smile.

 “Wow,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I guess this would be the right time to tell you that I like you, too.”

* * *

 “And he said he _likes_ me, too!” Chase jumped ecstatically in place.

“That’s great. It’s a dream come true,” Aria smiled a little.

 She wasn’t surprised. They’ve basically had their eyes on each other since the Basterds formed. That didn’t mean she wasn’t sad, though.

The loneliness was setting in deeper knowing that Donny wasn't the only one who liked Chase. She took note of several times Wicki was in good spirits with Chase, only to have that shot down when Donny joined them.

"You'll find yours someday," Chase said.

Aria felt a light squeeze on her shoulder, followed by the sound of faint footsteps.

If only people stopped telling her that when it simply wasn't going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slightly altered Donny's backstory with the bat. Most importantly, I changed what I consider to be a major flaw in the story, as well as a huge misstep on my part. Changes were made based on the suggestion of a Jewish reader, who did not feel the original version of this chapter aligned with Donny's character.
> 
> As I said in my tumblr post [here](http://kokomobunny.tumblr.com/post/181911746967/just-a-heads-up), I am making the changes, because a) I want the technicalities to be accurate and b) I want to be respectful of the film's Jewish audience. (I gave you the TL;DR version. You're welcome!)


	4. Equal Duties

Aldo walked between the corpses while the rest of the Bastards scalped the now-slain members of the squad they'd ambushed. He saw Aria squatting by one of the Germans, scalpel in hand and a look of disgust and reluctance on her face.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, so she looked up at her CO standing behind her.

"Come 'ere," he tipped his head a bit to the side and smiled. "I wanna talk to you real quick."

The nurse stood and looked back at the rest of the guys, about to let them know a body was up for grabs. She decided against it a second later, thinking whoever spots it first will claim it.

On her way to where Aldo had directed her, Chase looked up from her work and smirked at her friend.

"Everything good, Lieutenant?" Aria asked, tucking her scalpel back into her bag.

He turned around to face Aria and took a few steps closer to where she stood.

"I'm putting you off scalping duty permanently," Aldo sniffed and swiped his nostrils with the knuckle of his index finger.

While she was relieved, Aria was also confused. From the beginning, when they were all lined up and given the big speech about what they were going to be doing in France, the Lieutenant made it clear that she and Chase, being the only women in the group, were to be treated as equals. She assumed this meant they would be having the same duties as the men.

She'd always believed that until this moment, which would have marked her first time scalping. The situation usually played out in two different ways. The dead Germans were swarmed like flies on rotten meat once a temporary prisoner was taken. Since these units were small, there was one for each member of the Basterds. Those times, Aria didn't protest to having her share of the 'fun'. In the remaining cases, she was too busy tending to any injuries they acquired during their exchange with the enemy to consider bagging a scalp for herself. 

"Are you sure, sir?" Aria folded her hands behind her back and looked down shyly. "I mean, I don't mean to question your orders, sir. It's just I was under the impression that we were all performing the same duties."

Now that she thought about it, it sounded as if she was begging him to allow her to partake in this and, while she didn't want to, she also didn't want any backlash from the others for being given a pass.

He gave her an amused smile, seemingly impressed with her response. "Well... the way I see it, your duty is to fix us up when we get hit, right?"

Aria dropped her hands to her side, using one to brush some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Right, sir."

"'Sides, I think you did enough today. Why don't you take a break while I go talk to that Hun Pig over there," he glanced at the prisoner, then back to the woman in front of him.

She nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

He nodded back. “You’re dismissed.”

She went on her way to the base of an oak tree. She sat down, leaning her back against the tree trunk and closed her eyes as a breeze blew under the yellow canopies above.

* * *

"What is that grin for now?" Aria groaned at Chase. "Don't tell me it's something Donny said, I swear to God—"

"I knew it! I was right, okay? Just say it!" Chase said, triumphantly. "Aldo likes you!" 

"He lets me sit out for fifteen minutes, big deal," Aria scoffed.

"And he says you don't have to scalp any of those sons of bitches," Chase added, pointing her mess kit spoon at the nurse, who sat across from her at their own campfire.

Aria shrugs and scrapes at the bottom of her cup with her utensil, scooping up the last of her stew. "But he does have a point: I'm just taking care of you and the boys when you get hurt."

Once they’d both finished their meal, Chase looked at her friend.

“You know what they say. ‘Love knows no bounds’,” she said. “Yeah, I know it isn’t allowed, but look at me and Donny!”

“Donny’s not an officer,” Aria responded, bluntly.

"Hey, doll," a voice came from behind Chase.

She turned around and looked up at the man towering over her. "Hey, you!"

Donny smiled wider and bent down to kiss her temple.

This is when Aria stood up and went for one of the shacks they'd found in the area. "Goodnight, Chase."

She heard Chase's giggled "goodnight" in response, probably from Donny doing something to make her laugh. Her back was already facing the pair to know.

Aria rinsed her cup and spoon off with the water from her canteen. She pulled a cloth from her bag and used it to dry them before putting it away with the rest of her mess kit. Once inside her shelter for the night, she made herself comfortable on the floor and tried to push away the feeling of loneliness knowing that, unlike her, Chase has someone to keep her company.


	5. Breakfast with the Basterds

The following morning, the Basterds went into town to wash up and get breakfast, with the help of Chase.

"Thank you," Chase said to one server setting down a platter topped with scones. 

She repeated this to another, who gave each person at the table their drinks.

The waitress, who provided the beverages, asked Aria, "Would you like some sugar?" 

"Uh..." Aria stuttered, signaling Chase to step in.

"She's asking if you want sugar with your tea," the latter explained.

When Aria nodded, Chase smiled at the waitress and responded with "Yes, please."

By then, everyone had dug into their scones.

Aria picked out a blueberry one for herself and munched off a corner to get a taste for it first.

The server returned with a small pot of sugar and put the saucer it came on beside Aria.

"Merci," the medic shyly said, before taking out the little spoon from the pot.

 She shoveled a spoonful of sugar into her tea and stirred.

“Mmmmh!” Donny hummed, crumbs from his scone falling onto his sweater. “I miss real food!”

“How are we going to pay?” asked Utivich, who hadn’t eaten yet.

“With money,” Omar quipped.

Utivich glared. “You know what I mean!”

“Let’s see,” Aldo put his mug down and drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. “There are eleven of us...”

“One person could leave the tip,” Kagan suggested.

“I’ll do that, since I don’t have shit,” Donny said.

“Wait,” Hirschberg interjected, his hand held out in front of him. “ _I_ don’t have shit, either.”

“Everyone, empty your pockets,” Aldo ordered.

The group dug into the pouches on their coats and pants, the clinking of loose change filling the space, along with the crinkling of paper money... or what paper money they had left.

Aldo had no words.

“You’re tellin’ me that we ambushed over fifteen squads in the last week alone and this is all we looted?” he perked up in his seat slightly, craning his neck to survey the coins scattered around their plates. “I’ll be honest. I’m a little disappointed in y’all.”

"So how are we going to pay for this?" Wicki peered over his mug before taking a sip of his coffee.

Silence befell them.

Chase’s face lit up. The rest of the unit saw this and watched her put her hand through the hidden pocket on Donny’s jacket, which she was wearing. She whipped out a brown leather wallet. A black swastika was engraved on the front flap.

Chase reached in the slot and pulled out several bills in a fan-like fashion. "I counted them all last night and there's basically enough to buy The Louvre. Okay, maybe not exactly, but like, a single piece of art from there."

In that instance, Wicki threw an arm around her shoulders. He looked at Aldo across from them and smiled his toothy smile. "What'd I tell you, Lieutenant? Very efficient and smart, this one!"

"Aw, Wil, stop it!" she playfully shoved his side with the money still sticking out of the wallet, causing him to unhook his arm from her and pull back with silent laughter.

"You did and I don't regret bringin' her in. Not one damn bit," Aldo moved his head in a way that looked as if his chin was cutting a diagonal line into the air while he raised his eyebrows at the same time.

“Probably more than enough for next pass,” Hirschberg whispered to Omar while Chase was asking for the check.

Once the server walked away, Chase turned to face them again.

“You guys touch this wallet, I’m sending Donny after you.”

* * *

 "Ugh, I can barely walk," Utivich groaned, following everyone out of the restaurant. “So many scones.”’

"You needed the bulk anyway," Aldo patted his back. "Grow as big as Donowitz here."

"He wishes," Donny remarked. "Even then, he wouldn't be as terrifying as I am."

Aldo did a headcount and started walking off to the direction they came in from. The others soon followed, heading back to the woods, where they'd hid their gear.

"It was nice while it lasted," he said, and then smirked at a pretty blonde woman passing the group. "But we got a job to do."

A young boy came out of a bookstore, carrying a stack of newspapers. He held them over the top of a newspaper rack and dropped them right in, the stack making a bulk 'plop', before retreating inside.

The front page caught the eyes of the Lieutenant, who stopped in his tracks and picked up a copy.

 _The Striker_ was printed at the top in a Blackletter font. The headline “The Cowardly Traitor _”_ was emblazoned in red under a box that detailed the publisher and date of the paper.

Within the sea of words was a set of photographs: a mug shot, illustrating a stone-faced German soldier. To the right was a cluster of 12 pictures, each depicting Germans who appeared to be much higher in ranking. Half wore caps decorated with the Imperial Eagle.

"What's this all about?" Aldo looked over his right shoulder to where Wicki was, passing him the newspaper.

Wicki did a quick scan of the page before summing up the article with the subheading. "Says this guy here, the so-called 'Cowardly Traitor'"—he pointed at the big portrait—" Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz killed 13 German officers."

Immediately, everyone was interested, their eyebrows going up their foreheads in shock and confusion, especially since the Sergeant looked like every other soldier they'd encountered.

"He's a German, ain't he? Why'd he do it?" Aldo wondered aloud, hands on hips and squinting at Stiglitz's picture.

Chase stood on her toes to get a glimpse of the paper over Wicki's shoulder. When he felt her chin on his shoulder, he stepped aside and held the paper out to her so they could both read it.

“Cowardly as his backers, Stiglitz assassinated his defenseless victims, all proud German men who gave their heroic sacrifices. They prepared to bring life back to the country, preserve it. They were ready to give people what the race had been. Believing, the German people did more damage, the Jewified traitor—not with the heroism and the bravery of German soldiers— repeatedly stabbed Lieutenant Colonel Richard Max Sollenberger with a knife...” Wicki read out loud. 

"One officer was strangled, 'a garrote being the most likely weapon'. Another was suffocated to death. When his body was found, they found his jaw broken," Chase added.

"So what's that whole thing about being ‘Jewified’ got to do with this guy?" Utivich asked.

"It’s propaganda," Aria shrugged. “You know, make him look bad since he betrayed them.”

"Whatever the reason, this guy's a fucking hero," Donny commented. "Too bad he's probably dead by now."

"Oh no, it says he's being sent to Berlin," Wicki glanced at the date the paper was made. "He's being sent today at a holding cell. 'The Pit', they call it."

Aldo lifted his head and pursed his lips in thought. Then, he looked at each Basterd, saying, "Y'all thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Before anyone can answer, a smile formed on his face. "We're gettin' us a Nazi killer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to [warmommy](https://www.warmommy.com/post/180009899768/internationale-judentum-einen-ha%C3%9Ferf%C3%BCllten-kampf) for transcribing the newspaper article. Upon translating, some of it was still disjointed, so I made some minor adjustments in sentence structure. (Though it wasn't in the original transcript, I decided to keep the crime scene descriptions.)
> 
> One of the suggestions I got was to not mix languages, so I just put the English translations. I'm not sure if I should format translations in some way. I experimented with italics, but I thought it would confuse readers who might read them in a emphasized tone. It's unlikely that there will be any flashbacks, but I normally italicize those. Any ideas are welcome!


	6. Goin' Pro

After yet another ambush, the Basterds were able to obtain both directions to and a floor plan of "The Pit".

"The worst offenders were sent there. Torture was not uncommon," Wicki lit a cigarette and leaned back in the passenger seat of the truck they made off with. 

"Looks like this shit's gonna be a piece of cake," Sakowitz looked at the dots on the floor plan, denoting one guard at each of the five entrances. 

"That's cus there's only one cell, you moron," Hirschberg leaned over and pointed where the single cell was on the map.

At the back, Aria was wedged between Chase and the right side of the truck. On her lap was her satchel. She held the newspaper on top, studying the words on the front page, which was littered with several instances of “Jew" and "Jewish".

She focused on the photo of Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz. Though his face looked to be absent of any muscle movement, his eyes were undoubtedly filled with seething hatred, which is understandable, given that the one taking the photo was most likely a Nazi.

What made him hate Nazis so much that he killed respected members of its regime?

 "What are you thinking about?"

Aria snapped her head up when she heard Chase's voice.

Looking at the sharpshooter seriously, she asked. "Why do you think he'd do what he did?"

"We're here," Wicki cut into the speculation, making everyone on board fall silent.

The top of the dome-shaped structure was visible from where the Basterds stood behind a row of tall hedges obscuring the southwest and southeast entrances.

Since they were a good distance away from the guards outside, they were able to map out their plan in the surrounding woods.

 “Alright, Hirschberg, Kagan and Ashley take the northwest tunnel around back,” Aldo instructed, pointing to the top left of the circle on the floor plan.

“Warren, Utivich, and Sakowitz go to the northeast,” his finger made a straight line to the entrance adjacent to the first.

“Omar and Donowitz: southwest. Zimmerman and Wicki: southeast. We should all meet in the middle. Simple enough,” he concluded. “Questions?”

When no one said anything, he rolled up the map and stood up from his crouching position. “Good. Let’s move!”

The men and women broke up into their designated groups, with those going towards the back entrances stopping every few steps and ducking behind the bushes so as to not give their positions away. They made as little noise as possible so that any rustling of leaves and grass could be attributed to squirrels or other wildlife.

With at least one person keeping a look out for any approaching Germans, another poked the muzzle of their rifle between the branches of the shrubs just enough to aim at the target while being unseen.

Chase fired her rifle, causing the guard at the northeast entrance to go down with a thud.

While he groaned in agony, another could be heard calling, “ _Sniper!_ ”

Soon after, each guard flew to the ground.

The Basterds poured out onto the lawn surrounding the complex.

As Aria charged down the corridor, the brick walls becoming a blur, her heart leapt in the confines of her ribcage.

Rejoining the others, the pumps of adrenaline in her veins subsided. She’d calmed down for the most part, but was on high alert again when she laid eyes on Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz.

With light only coming in through the windows, the room was quite dim. She could hardly see Stiglitz behind the iron bars, save for his blue gray eyes. They were on the men and Chase, then her.

The same dead stare she saw in the paper.

It would make sense, considering she was impure in Aryan eyes. If it weren’t for the men, Chase and that cell, she wouldn’t be alive right now.

Aldo stepped over a dead guard and began talking to the prisoner.

Stiglitz was still the entire time, with the exception of nodding his head and taking a drag of his cigarette.

Due to this silence, Aria wondered what he sounded like. She thought back to the Germans who barked orders at each other when firing back at the men on her side, or those same Germans who groaned in pain when struck. After a while of dealing with the same scenarios time and time again, they all started to sound the same, blurring into one dialect, one accent.

_BOOM!_

She jumped in her spot along with the rest of the Basterds. She was on high alert, looking around, until she saw Sakowitz lower his gun and reface the same direction as everyone else.

Aldo continued talking and approached the cell.

Whatever he said prompted one last sign of approval from Stiglitz.

"Fantastic," Aldo said in his southern drawl. "Our medic’s gonna fix you up before we head out."

Aria felt her cheeks warm when Chase and the men stepped aside to make room for her.


	7. Fix Up

Zimmerman and Sakowitz turned and kicked the guards' bodies until they found the keys to the cell. 

"Here," Sakowitz tossed the key ring to Donny, who stood the closest to the door.

A rusty click emitted from the lock box and Aria's heart pumped faster. While Hugo Stiglitz killed Gestapo officers, it didn't necessarily mean he was free of their ideology. His glare was menacing enough when pointed to the ground. What more when he sees her up close?

She gulped when she caught him looking at her. Or was it Chase?

Under the labored screech of the cell door bouncing off the brick walls was a soft _jingle, jingle, jingle_ by Aria's ear.

The source of the sound was a set of small, silver keys.

"Wake up, Ashley," Aldo smirked, lowering the keys so she can take them.

She did so and approached the cell, feeling Hugo's eyes burning holes in her face.

Once she knelt in front of him, Aldo called out to her.

"Fix him up real good, but quickly. We gotta move."

The eight Jewish soldiers kept watch by each tunnel, leaving Aldo and Chase to watch Aria work.

With a much cleaner click than the cell doors, the cuffs popped off with the twist of the key. She tossed the chains to the side where a puddle of blood had gathered, probably from one of the guards.

Setting them aside, she saw the indents left on Hugo's wrists. _The discomfort was likely the lightest form of torture he'd gone through._

Under the sleeves of his jacket, she saw more marks a few inches back, possibly scrapes. She disinfected and wrapped them up in bandages.

Aria took note of a cut on his cheek. This one looked newer than the ones she just treated. 

"This will sting a little," she meekly told him, immobilized by his cold stare.

He didn't even flinch when she cleaned it up.

She stuck the strip of bandage over the cut and packed up her satchel. 

"Alright, let's move!" Aldo waved an arm to gather everyone together.

Aria stood up at the same time as Stiglitz. Even with less than a foot difference in height, he seemed more intimidating.

Just as she brought the strap of her bag over her head, adjusting it on her shoulder, he walked pass her to exit the cell.

Amidst the collective thumping of boots over the concrete floor, she could make out a faint whisper.

“Thank you.”


	8. Fallen Ember

“Well, that was intense,” Chase said, leaning towards Aria in her seat on the back of the truck.

“It was,” Aria replied, keeping her eyes on the road in front of them. 

Thankfully, Donny was sitting between her and Stiglitz.

If anything happened, at least there was the wall of a man to protect them.

She held her breath and curled her fingers over her knees. There was nothing to worry about, right?

There was a lone Hun in a vehicle with mostly Jewish Americans.

It was even more unnerving that said Hun did nothing. He just sat there while they cruised down this dirt path at 100 mph. His focus was on the horizon far ahead. Again, his face was immobile. Not a single twitch of the eye or edge of the lip. Does he even _blink_? 

Aria thought about how much this was going to get used to. That is, if he doesn’t kill any of them first.

By nightfall, they camped out in a small clearing.

With Donny and Chase in front of the fire again, Aria sat at the base of a tree. It was just the right location; enough to distance herself from the couple, but not far from the other men.

Stiglitz had the same idea, it seemed.

Looking up from her journal, she saw him under the withering branches of a nearby tree. His back was pushed against the bark and his knees pointed towards the sky. The light from the fire silhouetted his left side.

Her fingers loosened the grip around her pencil as she observed him.

She couldn’t tell if he had fallen asleep or not. His eyes were closed but his chest wasn’t moving.

For some unknown reason, she started taking note of his uniform, comparing it to the ones she’d seen on other soldiers. His was void of any rank. His greenish-gray jacket and pants, paired with a blue button-up shirt had nothing remarkable on it. That is, with the exception of the Reichsadler above the left breast pocket. A shadow of his former allegiance.

Aria reminded herself to stay away and that he could kill any of them at any time. 

There was movement of his leg.

Initially, Aria attributed this to the waving flames of the campfire casting shadows that wither in size. 

Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was his foot. The toe of his boot tapped on the ground in an almost inaudible _pat, pat, pat, pat._

When looking at his face, she froze.

Her gaze was met with two ice-filled eyes.

“Oh,” she squeaked low enough so that only she could hear it.

She drew her attention back to what she’d already written.

_Waiting for the next day to come. If it comes. Who knows? No one does. I sure don’t. I just hope I fall asleep soon. It’s not so easy when a Kraut’s sitting right by me. Somehow the Lieutenant thought this was a good idea? I respect Lt. Raine, but think about it: Stiglitz wants to kill Nazis, too. But how does Raine know he isn’t going to kill us all and go off_

She continued,

_on his own after? Wait, he can’t do it all himself. The Allies made their way here already. Anyway the more_

The graphite nub skidded off the page when Aria sensed something.

She nearly jumped when she was face-to-face with Stiglitz.

He was squatting a foot or so away, but it scared her nonetheless.

“Do you have a light?” he asked, cigarette in hand.

Blinking through the silence, she parted her lips to speak.

“I... I don’t smoke,” she stuttered. 

His face unmoving, he gave her a small nod and was about to turn away from her to ask the others, but she continued. 

“But I have a lighter in my bag.”

While she didn’t smoke, she found it useful to carry a light. She didn’t know when she’d need it, but the time could come. Plus, the Basterds smoked. They were out here for God knows how long and lighter fluid didn’t come from the rain, thus making her a supplier if need be. That was probably the closest they’d get to liking her, anyway.

His eyebrows perked and he waited for her to fish it out.

She moved some supplies out of the way and reached into a pocket stitched on the back, pulling out a silver Zippo. With a flick of her thumb, she popped the lid off with a _clink_ and cranked the gear to summon the flame. 

Stiglitz leaned over, cigarette between his lips, and held the tip over the fire. His hand brushed over her knuckles, sending a spark up her arm. (Or was that just a fallen ember?) 

She lowered her hand when he pulled back into the darkness around them. 

He pinched the paper rod from his lips, turned his head away from her and exhaled, letting the smoke pour from his nose.

“Thank you...” his voice trailed.

“You’re welcome.” 

She went back to her journal, but saw through her eyelashes that he hadn’t moved. 

“Sergeant?” she looked up.

“What’s your name?” he asked, rather bluntly.

Taken aback by this, she answered meekly.

“Aria.”

His lips formed a tight line, then loosened so he could take another drag.

Again, he blew the smoke away from her direction.

“Thank you, Aria,” he nodded.

She watched as he stood up and made his way back to his tree.

Aria continued her entry:

_the more dead Nazis, the better._


	9. Dirt

The next morning, Aria turned on her side, but felt something on top of her. When she moved some more, there was some rustling of leaves. She froze, eyes still closed. Her heart was pumping so loud, she was certain whoever was near could hear it. She waited some more, listening for anything: footsteps, breathing...

Nothing.

Hoping the men were still around, she prayed for a light sleeper, like Wicki, or someone with a keen sense of hearing, like Kagan, to confirm her suspicion by shooting at whoever’s there.

At the same time, she didn’t want it to be real. 

Her ears being met with nothing but her own heavy breathing, she opened her eyes, shut them again to block out the light, then saw some piles of leaves scattered at the base of the trees around her.

She sat up and looked to her side, where a brown blanket had fallen past her arm.

“Mornin’.”

She squinted up at Aldo towering over her, wearing a gray sweater.

“M-Morning, sir,” she looked down to hide her pink cheeks as she matted down her tousled hair.

Why did she suddenly care, though? He’s seen them all wake up. Hell, he’s probably heard her snore.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked as a couple others began to stir under the leaves.

“Good. You?” Aria yawned and threw her arms out to stretch.

“Good,” he smiled and squatted down so he was leveled with her face. “You had your coat off. Seemed you didn’t fancy it as a blanket, so I gave you mine.”

Aria pulled the blanket up and saw the sleeves. It was, indeed, Aldo’s coat.

“Thank you,” she smiled a little and handed it back to him.

He took it, stood up and slipped it on. Buttoning it up and buckling the belt, he addressed the group.

“Rise ‘n shine, y’all,” he put his hand to his hips and went over to a still-sleeping Hirschberg. “You too, sleepin’ beauty,” the lieutenant nudged Hirschberg’s leg with the toe of his boot, only to be met with a groan.

“Grab yourselves some breakfast,” Aldo continued. “Hopefully, we can find some real grub for lunch later.”

The men and women pulled their breakfast boxes from their pants pockets, removing the sleeves and digging into the cans of meat and eggs. 

Aria bit into one of the wrapped biscuits and looked for Stiglitz.

He had his legs stretched out in front of him, craned his neck to the side and opened his eyes to see a hand holding out a tin can. 

He took it, a hint of hesitation on his face and turned to the recipient.

Aria nodded as a sign of approval before returning to her can of ham. Instead of crawling back to where her tree was, she sat next to him, placing the carton on the ground between them so they can share the crackers.

* * *

 “How many we got back there?” Aldo asked Hirschberg and Zimmerman.

“Four,” the latter replied, standing to the side.

He kept his gun pointed at the prisoners while Stiglitz told them to kneel with their hands behind their heads.

One of them saw Aria some feet away, tending to Wicki’s wounds.

“Herman,” the prisoner jabbed his raised elbow against his friend’s. “Over there.” 

Herman followed his friend’s gaze and started snickering.

“That’s your girlfriend, Herman,” the first Kraut joked. “You like pigs, don’t you?”

Before Herman could reply, Stiglitz put a bullet through the instigator’s head. The slain man fell to the ground on his side, right in front of Herman, who was now in hysterics.

“Three,” Stiglitz corrected, coldly.

“Save your ammo, boys,” Aldo advised. “Never know who’ll talk.”

From where she sat, Aria looked back to Wicki. “Wonder what that was all about...”

He simply shrugged and tipped his head to the side so Aria could disinfect the area on his neck.

 “Luckily, it was just some shrapnel. Nothing serious,” she commented.

“Just sit here, relax and look pretty,” Aria added, patching him up and turning her attention to Kagan and Utivich.

Waves of forest green and bloodstained iron crosses were scattered about.

Stiglitz was translating, but it was soon fading to the background when Aria noticed Wicki looking at Chase.

With Utivich now out of earshot, Aria sat closer to the Austrian.

“You really like her, don’t you?” she asked.

Wicki smiled sadly and nodded, seeing Chase and Donny chatting. She laughed at something he said. 

“I was simply too late,” Wicki sighed.

“Maybe one day something will bring you both together,” Aria placed her hand on his shoulder.

She half-expected him to shake it off, but he didn’t.

Aria never kept a secret. It wasn’t because she loved to gossip; she just didn’t have any meaningful relationships that involved such a sacred thing.

She wasn’t going to tell Wicki what Chase said to her about how much she loves him. She wasn’t going to tell him that Chase has expressed regret over losing Wicki as a potential lover. She wasn’t going to tell him anything, even if the sorrowful lines around his lips set into his skin.

Instead, Aria thought about how much she longed for someone to feel this way about her. She wanted to be viewed as a gem. Being with the Basterds—while better than being with her old company—told her one thing: she was dirt.

_Crack!_

Everyone who wasn’t within reach of the prisoners turned their head towards the large figure with a baseball bat standing over the bloody, beaten corpse of a loyal soldier.


End file.
